


Virgin Bedchamber

by takemeawaytocamelot



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 05:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13357161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takemeawaytocamelot/pseuds/takemeawaytocamelot
Summary: What if Claire was the virgin on her wedding night and not Jamie?





	1. Chapter 1

He watched her through the hasty ceremony. He saw the way she stared at him, the way she licked her dry lips, the way she kept her hands clasped together so he wouldn’t see them shaking. He had seen them shake, of course, but she didn’t need to know that.

Poor lass was terrified.

He didn’t blame her. She’d told him that she’d only been promised to another man, but hadn’t actually wed him yet. When this agreement to marry had been created, she’d confessed it to him. There was something she still held back from him, but he wouldn’t pressure her for the details. They had a lifetime for that.

God she was beautiful. Wearing that lovely gown, her hair all done up in ribbons and wee flowers. As the priest prattled on, he wondered if the coarse hair between her legs would be the same lovely shade of brown. He would find out soon enough.

Forcing himself to pay attention, he repeated the words when prompted. Dougal came and performed the blood rites, and he led Claire through the Gaelic words.

Then they were married.

She’d been promised and hadn’t lain with the man, but she said she’d kissed him on occasion.

“He was a proper Englishman, you see,” she’d told him. “He didn’t think it right to do… Things. Before we wed.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. I’ll take care of ye.”

And so he would. Before God and many of his friends, he’d vowed to care for her.

Now that they were married, the only thing left to do was consummate it. That was the last piece to make their binding legal, the only other thing he could do to keep her safe from that black-hearted bastard Randall. 

Her hand was shaking in his as he leaned down to kiss her. 

Their first kiss.

 _Ah_ , he thought. _She hadn’t been completely truthful with him about that_. Her experience and skill was more than an occasional kiss. Christ! She tasted amazing. Just the thought that he would be the only one to kiss her for the rest of her life, and she him, gave him gooseflesh.

“Go on up to the room, Sassenach,” he said quietly in her ear. “I’ll be up presently.”

She nodded and went to the stairs, still holding the clean cloth over her wrist. Jamie needed a few moments to gather his wits before going up to his wife.

A dhia. His WIFE.

“Jamie,” came a deep voice. “I’m off to deliver the news to Captain Randall.”

“Aye. I thank ye, uncle.”

Dougal looked up to the door to the room Jamie would soon be in.

“Give the lass a good on for me, aye?”

He laughed and clapped Jamie on the shoulder.

“Ye ken yer way around a lass’s skirts, aye?” he asked.

“I’ll manage, Dougal. Dinna worry yourself over it.”

Dougal hooted with laughter and went out to fetch his horse. Jamie started for the stairs, eager to see her again.

“Jamie.”

If every single man in the rent party was to stop him, he wouldn’t see his wife for another week!

“What?” he barked, turning to see who was stopping him now.

Murtagh glared at him.

“Go slow and pay attention,” Murtagh said.

“What?”

“When ye bed the lass. She’s no’ been wi’ a man. Go slow an’ watch her. Take yer time. Ye’ve no’ bedded a virgin.”

Jamie blinked in surprise. How did Murtagh know anything?

“How did you-”

“Yer mother asked me t’ watch out for ye. If I’d known ye were going to sneak out that night to go bed that wee lass Annalise, I’d have stopped ye myself.”

“You kent I bedded Annalise?!”

Murtagh folded his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at Jamie.

“And that wee spitfire a few years back.”

Jamie stared at him, open mouthed. 

“I expect both’a them had lain wi’ a man before, aye?”

“Aye, they had.”

“And yon Claire hasna. Go slow and pay attention. She was promise to another man, this isna easy for her.”

“I ken that. But she agreed.”

Murtagh gave him a flat look.

“Aye, she agreed. It was either marry you or be handed over to the Captain.”

“I ken that, Murtagh. Will ye let me go now?”

Jamie would have sworn with his hand on a Bible that Murtagh had smiled at that.

He took the stairs three at a time, but stopped himself at the door. The last thing he needed to do was terrify her by barging in out of breath. Once he’d calmed himself, he took off his sword belt and resisted the urge to knock. This was his room with his wife. Knocking was pointless.

She was sitting at the mirror, her back to him. He saw her flinch when he closed the door. Knowing the behavior of the drunken rent party downstairs, he bolted the door as well.

“Everyone’s still partying, I take it?” she said.

“Aye. Until they’re sure we’ve made things… Official.”

“And how will they know? Do they… Oh God. Are they going to watch!?”

He couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“No, Sassenach. They willna. Angus and Rupert wanted to, ye ken. But it isna necessary. I reckon they’ll ken for sure in the morning.”

She frowned at him.

“Why? Will it be loud?”

“Ah… No. I mean it might. But they ken how a man and woman look after they’ve lain wi’ each other.”

She swallowed hard and looked pointedly at the ground.

“Would ye like something t’ drink, Claire? To take the edge off a bit?”

Claire nodded quickly and he poured them both a glass of whiskey.

The poor girl was petrified. He couldn’t lie with her like this. It would be no better than rape. She might technically agree, but she didn’t really want it.

“I wasna going to suddenly force myself on you, Claire.”

“O-oh. I didn’t really think you would, I just… I’ve never done this before.”

“Aye, I ken that. And ye’ve no’ likely imagined me being the one ye’d marry.”

“Well, no.”

Pouring more whiskey, he motioned to the bench and they both sat.

“Then how about we talk a bit? Get to know one another?”

So they did. He told her all she wanted to know about his family and she did the same. Though she kept her back to him at certain points, telling him that they were likely half-truths. No matter. She was telling him what she could.

“Well,” she said, looking at the empty bottle of whiskey. “I suppose we should, erm…”

“Claire, tell me honestly. If ye dinna want me, I’ll sleep on the floor. If ye do, I’ll do what I can t’ help ye enjoy it. But once we reach a certain point, I dinna think I’ll be able t’ stop.”

She stood up to her full height and looked him in the eye. Christ she was beautiful, standing there in her corset and skirts. The gown was draped over a chair in the corner.

“I… I want you, Jamie. I’m just a little frightened.”

“We’ll take it slow, then. Dinna fash, Claire. You have my name, my clan, and the protection of my body as well. I ken I dinna have much to offer a wife, but whatever I do have, it’s yours.”

“That’s… Very kind of you, Jamie. Would, uh… Would you mind helping me with my skirts and laces?”

“Of course. Turn around.”

First was the wee lace she had tied around her bonny neck. Her skin was so smooth to his fingers. Softly, he traced down her back to the tie of her skirts. They fell in a woosh of fabric. It took everything he had not to grope at her perfect arse. It was so round and large, he imagined it would feel amazing in his hands. But no. Not yet.

Then she turned slowly around and he forced his eyes up to hers. He’d see everything that hid beneath her shift soon enough. With a smile he hoped was reassuring, he tugged at her laces until the corset too was gone.

“You won’t hurt me?”

“It’ll hurt a bit at the first, but I’ll try and distract ye.”

“Alright.”

“Ye can still say no, Claire. We’ve no’ gone too far yet.”

She shook her head.

“It’s alright, Jamie. I… I trust you.”

“Have ye seen a naked man before, Claire?”

Carefully, he put her hands on the belt of his kilt. She was trembling. If he’d had more whiskey, he’d have given her another dram. Almost methodically, she unbuckled it and it clattered to the floor. Her nipples were poking at her shift, making his mouth water. Not quite yet. One thing at a time, Jamie.

“I have, once or twice,” she answered in a quiet voice.

“Does it frighten you?”

“A little.”

“Would ye rather I leave on my shirt and you yer shift?”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No. Not at all.”

She nodded slowly. Then she seemed to steel herself and reached for him. Her kiss was intoxicating and it wasn’t the whiskey on her lips. When her tongue touched his lips, his tight hold on his self control slipped. He grabbed at her buttocks and lifted her a little, moving them swiftly to the bed. For once, he was the experienced one.

He tried to be careful with her, to be gentle. One hand pulled her shift up a little, just enough to give him access to her. With it, he teased between her legs until she was trembling. Then he eased himself into her. She winced and flinched a bit.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach,” he said, voice tight with the amount of control he was using.

“It’s… It’s alright. Just different than I expected.”

“I canna stop now. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but I canna stop.”

She nodded and smiled up at him, one hand tangling in his thick hair.  As carefully as he knew how, he began moving against her. He worried that she would hate him if it only hurt her. But as their time went on, he felt her giving in, her body accepting his. And then her face changed. She no longer frowned with each gentle thrust. In fact, he thought she might have started to smile.

“Oh Jamie,” she moaned.

 _Yes_ , he thought through his haze of satisfied lust. _Call my name. Call to me, beg me to claim your body_.

His movements were getting harder now, her body moving in time with his. It had never been like this before, not with Annalise. Somehow if felt like he was putting his soul inside her, not his seed.

“YES!” she suddenly screamed, her body thrashing beneath his.

He felt it, felt her pleasurable conclusion and he couldn’t hold his back any longer. One, two, three thrusts and he cried out in Gaelic.

“Sweet Jesus, Claire,” he breathed, kissing just beneath her ear.

His lips worked to find hers once more, capturing them even as he struggled to get air into his body.

“God, Jamie,” she said with a languid smile. “Is… Is it always like that?”

He smiled and rolled off her. He noted that she didn’t push her shift back down.

“No. Only if I ken what I’m about.”

“I’ll say you did. I didn’t think it would be like that.”

“Did ye like it, then?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

“Yes. I did.”

A loud banging on the door had him leaping to his feet as she squealed and shot off the bed.

“WHAT?!”

“Dougal sent us up to see if ye’d, uh…” Rupert began.

“Plowed the field,” Angus finished.

“It isna yer business. Go away!”  
  
“I told ye,” Angus said. “They’ve no’ done it!”  
  
Jamie glanced back at Claire, who was clutching the quilt to her chest.

“They willna let it go until I’ve gone down. I’ll just fetch us something to eat, aye?”

“And… Maybe some more whiskey?”

Striding to her, he held her face in both hands and kissed her softly.

“As my mistress wishes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie continue their wedding night, getting to know each other and getting comfortable with one another.

Going down in nothing but his shirttails didn’t bother him. He’d been a mercenary for a short time, so he’d been around men in less. The thing that got to him was that every single person downstairs knowing _exactly_ what he’d been doing for the last half hour since leaving them.

Even the fiddler joined in the fun and Jamie gave him a flat look.

“If ye’re worn out already,” Angus hooted. “Maybe I’ll nip up and _fill yer place_!”

“How ‘bout I fill yer face wi’ my fist, eh?”

As he’d expected, that only made Angus laugh harder. The landlord’s wife handed him a plate piled with breads and cheese, a small bit of smoked meat, and a little fruit. Claire would like the variety of food choices, he thought.

“Jamie,” Murtagh said, his face in it’s customary frown.

“Aye, Murtagh. I paid her attention.”

“Good. The lass did well, by the look of yer face.”

“I’ll no’ speak of it, Murtagh.”

Murtagh pursed his lips, or at least Jamie had the impression he did. It was hard to tell with all that fur.

“Och laddie! Ye think I dinna ken what a man looks like after having his pleasure from a lass? I’ve no wish to ken what happened between the two of ye. Only that yer happy.”

Jamie smiled, glancing up at the door to the room.

“Aye, Murtagh. I’m verra happy.”

“Go on, then. Canna keep yer wife waiting.”

Jamie took the stairs slower than the last time he’d mounted them and found her sitting at the table, his plaid around her shoulders.

She looked good in the Fraser colors. He closed and bolted the door behind him, setting the plate down before her.

“I ken it isna much, but the men eat like pigs.”

A small, sweet laugh had him smiling back at her.

“I gathered as much. I heard them joking at you downstairs. I’m sorry.”

“What for? It isna yer fault, Sassenach.”

“I just thought… Everyone knew I was a virgin before and now…”

“Och, they’re poking fun because they’ve kent me a long time. Dinna fash.”

She picked off a piece of bread and popped it into her mouth.

“Was… Was there no more whiskey?”

“Ack! I forgot. I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.”

Downstairs again, he ignored everyone’s good nature jesting and grabbed a few bottles of ale and whiskey to take back.

“Poor lass has t’ be drunk to take ye, then Jamie?”

The whole crowd erupted into laughter.

Claire looked more relaxed now, sitting comfortably at the table. He reigned in his own appetite, knowing full well he could have eaten the whole plate and still been hungry. But it wasn’t just him he was responsible for now. It was her too.

In an effort to keep the comfortable feeling of the room, Jamie told stories about his life growing up, about his sister, the brother he’d lost to small pox, his father. Anything he could think of that would make her smile. 

The whole while, he felt her mood changing. It began as something warm that he felt when she looked at him, glowing just beneath the surface of her eyes. But it grew steadily from a gently burning ember to a small tongue of flame licking at a dry twist of grass. Her eyes didn’t leave him and he felt the way they moved over his body, imagining how he looked beneath.

Of course, she’d seen some of him that first night they’d met, when she’d bandaged his wounds and scolded him for being so stupid. But this was different. He wasn’t injured or bloody.

“Take off your shirt,” she blurted suddenly, her cheeks flushing deep red.

Thank God he’d worked on mastering his face long ago. As it was, his brows slowly rose in question.

“Why would ye want that, Sassenach?”

“I want to look at you.”

The timid virgin no more.

“Are ye sure?”

She nodded and finally met his eyes.

“I know it only takes once to make the contract legal but…”

“Ye’d like to do it again?”

“If you would’t mind.”

 _Mind_? God, he’d make love to her every moment of the day if he could.

“Aye. I wouldna mind it.”

He stood and pulled off his boots and stockings, leaving them in a pile beside his belts and coat. Then she was standing in front of him, hooded yes moving shamelessly over his body. With his eyes only on her, he untied the cuffs of his sleeves and pulled the shirt over his head. She gasped, eyes growing wide.

For a long time, they stood like that. Then she came slowly towards him, fingers brushing over his skin like a soft wind.

“Does it still frighten ye?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“No. You don’t frighten me. I thought it would, before. I’ve seen you hurt and fight and I know how strong you are. I never thought you would be this beautiful, though.”

“Well that’s verra kind of ye to say, Sassenach.”

She smiled and swallowed hard, her chest beginning to heave. They both knew what was coming next.

 _Odd_ , he thought, _that knowing I am the first man to see her naked body would bring me so much pleasure._  

“Fair’s fair,” he said gently, looking her in the eye as she came around the side of him. “Take off yours as well.”

She gulped, fingers pulling weakly at the ties of her shift. With shaking hands, she began to push it from her shoulders.

“You’ve… You’ve seen naked women before?”

“Aye. Ye ken I’ve lain wi’ women before. Never paid for it, mind ye. I don’t mess about wi’ whores. But I’ve never lain wi’ a woman that I’m wed to.”

 _Or wi’ a woman I loved_ , he thought.

When her shift puddled at her feet, he took his time looking her over. Lovely wide hips, good for childbearing. That sweet, large arse he’d felt on that long ride to Leoch. Plump, full breasts gently heaving with her anticipation. Christ she was more beautiful than the French girl he’d lain with. What he wouldn’t give to be able to tell Claire she was the only one he’d given himself to. But he couldn’t. All he could give her was his heart and soul.

He could hear her heavy breathing as he stepped closer, could taste the meat and cheese and whiskey on her tongue as he kissed her. One of his hands slid up her side to fondle her breast while his other took one of her own hands hostage. She was new at this, hadn’t experienced any of these things before. That made him a little happy that he’d been with other women. It helped him lead her. Gently, he placed her hand on his rapidly-stiffening cock, showing her how to stroke him.

“Oh,” she breathed. “It’s so soft.”

He grunted when her hand tightened and pulled on him a trifle rougher than she had been.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“Oh, ye havena, Sassenach. I told ye I’ve lain wi’ women before.”

“Yes, you have.”

“But I havena lain wi’ a woman that’s _mine_ ,” he said with a soft growl. “ _Only mine_.”

Then, with both her hands tangling in his thick hair, she kissed him hard. Sweet Christ she was good at that.

He’d thought, that first wild night with Annalise, that he’d been with a woman that he loved. Claire was different in every way and it drove him into a frenzy.

By unspoken consent, his hands slid down her body to grip her just beneath her buttocks. She gave a gentle bounce and he lifted her from her feet and her legs wrapped around him.

The single movement brought them together, but the kiss never broke. Carrying her easily, he made it to the bed and laid her down as carefully as he could. That, and his desperate need to breathe, was the only thing that forced them apart.

She didn’t wince this time, but he still went slowly. There was no worry of getting caught by anyone, so he could take his time.

He loved her tenderly, smiling as her hands explored him. He couldn’t stop kissing her anywhere he could reach.

“Oh Jamie…”

Then he felt it, that glorious moment when she lost herself in the pleasure of their joined flesh. His seed flooded her womb in the next moment, bringing Gaelic words of praise from his open mouth.

“Oh God, Jamie. That was even better than the first time.”

“Good, my Sassenach. I do verra much want to please ye.”

She smiled and he rolled them both to lay on their sides, his limp cock sliding free of her.

“Was it… Was it different?” she asked timidly, twirling a finger in the fur of one of the blankets on the bed.

“Was what different?”

“Being with other women. Were they different?”

“Aye. In many ways. But there’s something ye should ken, Sassenach. I believe there’s only room for two in a marriage bed. I willna bring memories of the other women to the bed I share wi’ ye. Just as you willna bring memories of your betrothed.”

She turned her face away, ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I just want ye t’ ken that I’ll never think of them when I’m wi’ ye.”

“Thank you, Jamie.”

“Always, my Sassenach. Rest a bit. I dinna want ye to be too sore in the morning when we ride out.”

With a nod, and a yawn, she rolled onto her other side and curled up. He put his arms around her, holding her close and keeping her warm. He waited until she was fast asleep, her breathing deep and even.

“ _I will not think of them_ ,” he whispered in Gaelic. “ _For I have not loved them. But you, my darling. You and you alone, have I loved._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

Jamie slept for a short time, only because his body was exhausted. Disjointed images ran through his mind while he slept.

_Claire naked and writhing._

_A babe suckling at her breast._

_Her round arse a perfect silhouette in her shift._

He woke sometime in the middle of the night, probably near midnight. Only the big candle on the table and the fire were still burning, casting the room in a golden light. While Claire was still asleep, he went to his sporran and pulled out his mother’s pearls.

There was a vague, foggy memory of her wearing them. But it had been so long ago, he wasn’t sure it was a real memory. He wanted it to be, of course, but that didn’t make it so. As he held them, running each pearl through his fingers like his rosary, he thought about what he’d do with them.

A cool draft ran through the open window, making him grab his plaid and sit down in front of the fire. Claire was his wife now. He would likely never be able to give her the gems and silks he wished, but he could give her the pearls.

He felt, rather than saw, her come closer to him and sit beside him on the bench. She faced the opposite way from him, smiling softly. He stood and let the pearls fall around her neck.

Her mouth opened as she touched them gently.

“They’re Scotch pearls. They belonged to my mother,” he said, looking her in the eye. “One of… the few things I have left of her.”

Claire looked back down at them and he folded his hands in his lap. He couldn’t say that he loved her, not yet. Soon, maybe. But this marriage hadn’t been her choice entirely. He couldn’t yet tell her that he was in love with her.

“They are precious to me.” He paused. This would be dangerously close to telling her that he loved her. “As are you, Claire.”

She stared down at the necklace as it hung between her breasts. One finger traced up and down it, caressing it gently.

Jamie leaned over to her and kissed the top of her shoulder. When he looked up at her face again, he reached up and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.

The two previous times they’d made love, he’d initiated it. He’d been the first to touch or kiss her. This time, it was her that kissed him first. She moved to sit on his lap.

The pearls became her very well, hanging between her breasts like they’d been made for her. He kissed both of them, delighting in the way she felt. Without any effort, she took him in and moved her hips slowly against his.

Never breaking eye contact with her, he wrapped the ends of his plaid around her shoulders. It was slow and sensual when she moved this way, something he hadn’t experienced before. They built up to a warm and slow conclusion together, her body shuddering gently.

He kissed her lips, holding her against him. Then he had an idea. Standing, still holding her to him, he went back to the bed and laid her down.

“What are you doing?” she asked, propping up on her elbows.

“Stay still,” he said.

Kissing his way down her body, he glanced up to see her tilt her head to one side, curious.

“But, what are-”

Then he buried himself between her legs, breathing deep the scent of her arousal and tasting her womanhood. Her body thrashed and he had to put his arm over her abdomen to keep her still.

“Hold still,” he muttered. “Or I’ll bite ye on accident.”

“Oh Jamie!”

He smiled even as he nibbled at her. With one flick of his tongue, she climaxed, howling and shaking.

“ _Oh…_ Oohh that was… _Jamie…_ ”

Still smiling he dropped himself down beside her.

“Glad ye liked it, Sassenach.”

“Would it be the same? If I did that to you?”

He looked at her in surprise and then down at himself.

“Well, I… Actually, I dinna ken, Sassenach.”

“Oh? Something you don’t know? Perhaps we’ll give it a try later.”

“Aye, my Sassenach. Perhaps we shall.”


End file.
